


Good Girl

by FanGirlFascination



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 09:33:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14713556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanGirlFascination/pseuds/FanGirlFascination
Summary: Gift Fic for underratedcharacterimagines on Tumblr who inspired my love for Ulysses Klaue! and reignited my love for Andy Serkis! M RATING! You have been warned.





	Good Girl

The whimper caught in her throat as she fought for silence. Her cheeks burned in humiliation at her current situation, even as her body betrayed her shameful enjoyment. An enjoyment he knew was coursing through her veins as she writhed on his desk. The smirk in his voice was evident as he talked with his client. This wasn't her punishment. They both were thoroughly pleased with the current situation. Her body, clothed in nothing but a bra, laying spread out on the hard wood of his desk, her legs scrambling for purchase of the chair as the wheels kept sliding from her. The fingers of her right hand were working furiously at her wet centre while she bit down, hard, on her left fist as she battled with the noises bubbling up form her throat.

No, her punishment is the threat. If she made a noise, any noise, loud enough for the rambling client to hear, if he guessed what was happening in Klaue's office as the weapons deal was being negotiated… then Ulysses would not allow her any quarter. He would make her cum, screaming and begging while the buyer listened. Then, during the handover, he would take her with him. Let the buyer put a face to the voice of the woman he had heard moaning in bliss… She wasn't entirely sure who the caller was. Their position, business or their dealings with Klaue - it was all a mystery. She was so consumed by the fire running through her body that she couldn't even identify an accent or narrow down a country. Therefore, she had to keep quiet.

The only voice she cared about was his. His hypnotic accent rolled off his tongue as he engaged in meaningless dialogue, stalking around the office but always, always, keeping his hungry eyes on the feast of sin before him. She had to have known it would come to this; she spoke out of turn. Undermined him in front of his men. She had to know her place, who was really in charge. She should just consider herself lucky he didn't allow his men in to witness her punishment. Her skin was flushed in pleasure, her face a deep ruddy red in testament to the blood rushing to her head as it lolled off the side of the desk. Her long hair gently swept over the ground as she writhed. As he passed by the table, his hand closed over her throat briefly and she froze. Her eyes snapped open in surprise but her teeth clamped further down into the skin of her hand.

Not a sound.

Good girl.

Ulysses rounded the table slowly, trailing his left fingers down her taut body, letting the chill of the prosthetic entice her back into movement as it tickled over her skin. Further down he travelled; teasing the side of her breast, tickling over her stomach and circling the point of her hip, smoothing down her thigh and calf before lifting her leg toward the ceiling and settling himself down on the chair. Never once stopping his conversation, but now vastly less interested in the topic when confronted with glimpses of his girl's glistening pussy as she moved her fingers inside herself, grinding her clit on the heel of her hand.

Now, finally, he let her feel the heat of his flesh as he ran his hands from ankles, to knees, to hips and back again. One hand hot and soft, the other cold and hard coaxing a writhing contraction from her stomach as she fought to bring herself into a sitting position. The head rush from suddenly being back on a vertical axis served to keep her complacent enough as he pushed her back down. Settling his prosthetic arm over her pelvis, Ulysses leaned forward and playfully nipped at the hand working at her centre. She took the hint and withdrew, leaving her pink lips shining in with the evidence of her arousal. He breathed her in, the scent of lust intoxicating his lungs as he ran his lips over the skin of her inner thighs, allowing his beard and the feel of his hot breath to entice her into trying to force contact with him-

"Are you listening?!" the enraged voice came from over the phone speaker.

He pulled away, smirking at the silent, frustrated whimper that rattled her frame. Poor girl.

"Of course Minister, how could I not? Now, tell me, what makes you think you deserve the price you're asking for?"

The jovial tone belied nothing as he slipped two of his fingers of his right hand inside her. It wouldn't do to leave her wanting, not too much. Besides, he'd felt her tense at the word 'Minister'. He smirked at the thoughts that were now no doubt racing through her mind, contributing to the wetness coating his fingers. Oh, his little bokkie certainly liked the thought of being a known wanton slut. But in practice? If he was being honest, neither of them liked the thought of sharing. Even his threat to let the guards watch had been half hearted. Still, he'd see how far they could take this.

She reached down to grab his fist, keeping it tight to her body, wary of the rhythmic noises the thrusting of his hand was creating… yet she was unwilling to relinquish the pleasure his fingers were creating. Well… he could work with that. Rapidly curling his fingers inside her, his mouth found purchase on the small bundle of nerves that resulted in a shockwave that arched her back so far he feared she might break it. With his other arm still weighing down her hips the position threw her chest into stark relief. Looking up at the display, he began mentally calculating the odds of creating a prosthetic that could divide into more limbs to tease her with.

She couldn't take it; the threat, the build up, her own teasing then his… all at once her orgasm shuddered through her, both hands flying to her face to desperately muffle the sounds she feared would spill through her teeth, before sliding up to grab handfuls of her own hair in frustration.

The desk shuddered and scraped over the floor, the wheels of his chair squeaked with movement and he could hear the wet squelching that his slowing fingers were coaxing from her body. But even so, not one peep from her sweet lips. Proud was not the word.

"Minister," he said abruptly, cutting off the still rambling idiot, "I understand completely, if you want the missiles for half the price then of course… you can have them,"

The Minister drew in a relieved breath but before he could thank him, Klaue cut him off again.

"Tell you what; you can have the whole lot of them for free, no charge, nothing at all. They'll be with you by tonight,"

"… Tonight?" came the rightfully concerned tone.

Ulysses smirked, feeling his baby girl's stomach contract rapidly in silent laughter. He slid his arms under the small of her back and pulled her up into a sitting position. Her eyes were bright and glassy, her hair wild, her skin sex-flushed and her mouth pulled wide into a delighted, triumphant grin.

"Of course, express delivery at over 7,000mph! You know, once I hit The Big Red Button,"

She buried her face into his neck to muffle the giggles and wound her arms around his strong shoulders, seeking warmth against the chilled room as they listened to the stuttered assurances that all money would be paid in full.

"See that it is," he grunted before swiftly hanging up.

The beep singled the end of the enforced silence and the giggles spilled forth easily, coasting warmth breath over his throat and clavicle. He gently gripped her hair and pulled her back to meet his gaze.

"My good girl," he murmured, taking a second to delight in the way she lit up at the praise before capturing her lips in a carnal kiss that promised the continuation of their game through the night.

Responding enthusiastically, she went willingly into his arms to straddle his powerful thighs as he sat back down in the chair. Her eager hands scrambling to his belt buckle to release the prize she had felt straining through the fabric.


End file.
